


American Boy

by Quarrelsome



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Family Shenanigans, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mink being an overprotective father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarrelsome/pseuds/Quarrelsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started when Aoba sends off his only child to college in Midorijima.  Little did Aoba know, Howakhan had started to take a liking to his dad's childhood friend.   How will Aoba react when Howakhan brings Koujaku back to America during the holiday break?  Most importantly, how will Mink react?   (Image of Howakhan is in the first chapter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intuition

**Author's Note:**

> Ciana and I are kickin' each others' gears to start writin' a 30 day word challenge and complete it. This is a written version of the comic I want to do. And since writtin' is faster than drawin' it out, I thought I'll upload this first. The style of writtin' will be like a drabble, but a tad longer than the traditional length.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

“Koujaku! Look at his face. How can you say no to this?”

“Koujaku, all he wants is a little hair cut.”

“Koujaku, this boy can have my appointment if you're already booked for the month.”

The hair dresser sighs and contemplates for a moment. This big American boy wanders into his establishment looking like a lost foreigner. And with a thick American accent, he asks if he can get his hair cut here. All the ladies in the room swoon at how adorable the kid is when he starts to pout after Koujaku refuses to give in. How can someone towering over six feet tall look like a kicked puppy?

“You do know there are plenty of other shops that strictly cater to men, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then why pick mine?”

The American scratches the skin underneath his chin, “Call it... intuition.”

“Huh?”

“You seem like a guy who's gentle while cutting hair.” The big man child smiles directly at Koujaku, 

“All these pretty ladies here speak highly of you and so,” puffing out his chest, he adds, “I want my hair to be cut by the best!”

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to make this a one time thing. The foreigner’s hair is quite fascinating to look at. 

It would be nice to touch it at least once. Strange, the American reminds Koujaku of someone, but who? He's never met anyone like this boy in the past. The last time he felt like touching a man's hair was Aoba's. Mentally shaking his head, Koujaku knows it's not best to dwell on it.

“Fine. Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you your appointment date.”

Towering over the owner, the boy shakes the other's hand vigorously, “Thank you so much! My name is Howakhan by the way.”

“You can call me Koujaku.”

What has he gotten himself into?


	2. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

The summer heat has not been kind as of late. And with each passing day, the brunette starts to wear less and less clothing. Today, he is wearing a black tank top and knee length shorts. Howakhan pats his forehead with the back of his hand due to the sweat that is beading there. His arm muscles flex as he fans himself with an American themed paper fan with his other hand. The motion of those heavy lifting arms distracted Koujaku for a moment, then his eyes travel up towards the sculpted shoulders, to the neck, and finally, onto the hair.

On the side of his face, Howakhan's hair is braided tightly against his scalp which leads up to where the hair tie binds hair together into a high pony tail. The braids then merged together into a mermaid style. 

The locks dangling on either side of his face are unbound and slowly sway every time the American fans himself. It looks soft and strong and the raven head really wants to touch it to see if it actually feels the same as it appears.

Koujaku tears his gaze away and looks back down at his planner, ignoring the other person in the room sighing every few seconds [ignoring his constantly sighing companion]. It's a good thing that the man child wasn't paying attention because then he would have to explain why he was staring longer than necessary. Getting back on track, Koujaku scribbles down a few notes; however, Howakhan's face looks crestfallen when the hairdresser tells him of his appointment date soon after.

“Eh? What do you mean the next available time is three months from now?” Before Koujaku can open his mouth, the American adds, “You really are the best if I have to wait for that long - man, it's so hot today.”

“It's summer. What did you expect?”

“Not to be this hot.” Fanning himself one more time before saying, “We should go out.”

Koujaku tenses and lifts his head in surprise, sputters out, “Excuse me?!”

Howakhan, paying no mind to the sudden outburst, grumbles, “It's too stuffy in here, so I thought maybe we should go out to the beach or something.”

“Why are you asking me?”

“I don't know anyone and,” the American grins, “you seem like a really cool guy.”

“Flattery isn't going to get you a discount, kid.”

“I wasn't trying to get — never mind. We should head over to the beach. I saw some really strange food that I wanted to try out earlier.”

And just like that, Koujaku was out of his chair and outside with an overly energetic foreigner.


	3. Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

Howakhan is strolling side by side with Koujaku; however, he starts to pick up the pace as he spots the small snack shack. He can hear the sound of something sizzling in the distance. The crisp, deep fried smell of cheap fast food is now invading his nostrils, making his mouth water. 

Tugging on the red kimono sleeve with controlled gentleness, he excitedly says, “It's right over there.” A big, wide grin displays on his youthful face as he continues with glee, “This morning, the squid smelled so wonderful. I wanted to order some earlier, but...” rubbing the back his thick neck, the American nervously eyes the establishment, “I didn't know how to pronounce the words and I didn't want them to think I'm just,” he whispers, “you know...a tourist.”

Giving Howakhan a once-over, Koujaku's eyes squint slightly. His red irises shine with mirth as he stares at the man child, whose shoulders are hunching with dismay. “The way you look already states that you're a foreigner. They're not going to mind if you can't pronounce the menu.”

Howakhan grumbles about not wanting to go alone.

“Come on, kid. I'll order your food.”

“Really? Thank you! I have money, so you don't have to pay.”

Koujaku attempts to ignore Howakhan's happy shouts, but the Japanese man can feel his heart swell with satisfaction. No one has been this excited about hanging out with him in just a platonic way since Aoba left. 

Once they reach the food shack, the hairdresser tells the American to find a spot for them to sit. It doesn't take long for the older man to order since a batch of freshly cooked squids are now being sorted out in front of him. He asks for those, two bottles of ice cold water, and some dumplings for dessert. When Koujaku places the fried food on top their table, Howakhan tackles the three colored treat first.

The yellow eyed boy takes one big bite of the red bean and gasps. “What is this ball of sweet goodness?”

“It's called Bocchan Dango.”

“Oh my god. These are so good!” He turns towards Koujaku's voice, eyes wide with childlike innocence, “Can we get some more?”

Koujaku feels his face heat up. This kid is seriously cute.


	4. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

For an hour, Koujaku watches Howakhan eat in silent fascination. It's amazing how much the boy can devour with such gusto and still look proper while doing it. The grilled squid on a stick aren't all that great, but the man child treats it like it's nirvana.

Koujaku isn't sure if it's just the kid that eats this much or if this is common in America. The owner and his two employees, however, benefit from Koujaku walking back to purchase more of their fast food. Every time he leaves his seat, potential customers stop and stare at the massive stacks of paper plates on their table. And in the end, their curiosity pushes them to check out what all the fuss is about.

Finishing his meal, the brunette pats his stomach in satisfaction, “How much do I owe you?”

“It's fine. The meal is on me.”

“Really? Thank you! Next time we hang out, I'll pay-” Suddenly, the brunet's coil starts to chime. Picking it up, it's a text from his dad asking him if he remembered to eat today and if he made any friends. Howakhan smiles and texts back, “Yes,” twice.

“You know,” Howakhan says abruptly, “when you were writing down my appointment, why didn't you use your coil or a computer?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It seems really strange is all.”

“Sometimes, it's nice writing on paper.”

Howakhan nods in agreement and drops it.

A group of middle age women walk passed them and wave. Koujaku returns the greeting with his trademark lady killer smile. They giggle and whisper with each other as they walk away.

“Your wife must be really secure if you're still smiling like that to random strangers.”

“I'm not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“I'm single.”

“Really? You're very pretty though,” Howakhan said in disbelief. How can someone like him still be a bachelor? 

“For a man?”

“No, in general because you really are attractive.” Standing up, the American tosses his empty water bottle inside the recycling bin.

Speechless, Koujaku remains silent. The way Howakhan says it, it sounds like he's talking about the weather and not actually hitting on the former Yakuza member. But for some reason, he can feel the blood gathering in his cheeks anyways. He doesn't know if it's from embarrassment because another guy called him pretty or the fact that he received a compliment that isn't coated with sexual desire.

By the time the American comes back, he yells, “Your face is as red as a tomato, Koujaku!” Taking off his tank top, Howakhan pours his bottle of water onto the material. “Here, this will cool you off.”

“I can't takes this! People are watching.” Doesn't he know that giving another man his clothes is highly inappropriate no matter how sincere the gesture is? “Put your shirt back on.”

He can hear the rumors now. Koujaku, the great ladies man, is now attracting half naked men. Mizuki will have a field day when he finds out about this.

“...but it's wet and,” Howakhan bends down closer, “I think you need this more than I do cause you're turning redder. I don't want you to pass out from a heat stroke.”

Koujaku cannot believe this kid is being serious right now.


	5. Confirmation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

Koujaku stares at his coil, debating whether or not to respond to the message. Today he was supposed to meet up with Howakhan, but the American cannot visit this afternoon, and he’ll come by tomorrow instead.

Mizuki walks out from the kitchen, places three chilled mugs of green tea on the table, and flops down adjacent to his best friend. Making himself comfortable, the tattoo artist examines the room and notices a certain someone isn‘t here. Odd. Nudging the distant minded hairdresser in the arm, Mizuki inquires, “Where’s your tag along?”

“Studying. And his name is Howakhan.” 

“First name basis already? I didn’t know it was that serious.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s been a month, Koujaku. One month and not a single date. I‘m surprised that lover boy isn’t here because he usually shows up around this time.”

“Mizuki--”

“You’re not getting any younger--”

“Mizuki--”

“And that kid seems to make you happy. He’s barely legal, but you have my blessings.”

“He’s just a friend.” Koujaku hears a scoff and quickly adds, “I’m serious.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

Throughout their conversation, Mizuki notices Koujaku eyeing and fiddling with his coil. Maybe it‘s time to push his old friend in the right direction and says, “Don’t keep him waiting. I bet the kid is staring at his phone just like you.”

“Thanks for the confirmation.”

“Happy to help.”

They continue to sit in silence with the sound of typing filling the air.


	6. Obsess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

The talk with Mizuki the other day was enlightening, yet Koujaku isn't sure if he should even peruse. He remembers how fleeting crushes can be. Maybe this will blow over once Howakhan settles down his university life and makes friends his own age, leaving the raven head to return back to his old routine. 

The former womanizer checks his his coil. Howakhan said he was coming over today, yet the boy is twenty minutes late. Did something happen? The American has not once ran late to any of their meetings, and if he did, then he would have contacted Koujaku. Finally, the worried Japanese hears sloppy knocking, and he hurries to open the door.

On the other side is Howakhan, grinning. The big foreigner forgot to tie his hair and now it's mostly covering his face because of the harsh evening wind. The hair stylist's hands twitch from the need to know what those strands would feel like between his fingers.

Finding his voice after Howakhan shuffles his feet side to side, the owner of the house says, “You're late.” The older man was about to ask why Howakhan doesn't have his hair tied up, but then he sees the food hanging from those calloused hands. “What's with all the grocery bags?”

Crestfallen, the American mutters, “You said I could use your kitchen to practice baking. The walk here took longer than I thought because of these.” Howakhan lifts his arms to demonstrate, showing the bulky packages. “I had to put my stuff down every time I couldn't see.”

“I did, but--” Koujaku eyes the bags warily and takes out one of the many butter sticks, “isn't this a bit excessive?”

Koujaku moves to the side to wordlessly tell Howakhan that he is not going to turn him away just because of the absurd amount of bags he brought. The dejected boy, turned happy, takes the hint. He hurries in, places the bags on the counter nearby, and starts to untie his shoes.

“It's just seven bags.”

“Seven extremely heavy looking bags.” Grabbing three of them, Koujaku leads the way towards the kitchen.

“My daddy says that it takes a lot of dedication and hard-work if I want to succeed in my studies.”

Every time the older man hears the word, “Daddy,” coming out of Howakhan's mouth, it sounds utterly adorable; as a result, Koujaku cannot help but feel a smile stretch across his face. Not wanting to seem like he is not paying attention, he continues the conversation. “In cooking? This looks more like someone who's obsessed with sweets.” He watches the blissfully happy house guest organizing the items. When he notices that Howakhan isn't going to put any of the extra ingredients away, Koujaku questions, “Are you going to use them all tonight?”

“That's the plan. All I need from you is to tell me how it tastes.”

Koujaku hums in acknowledgment. Howakhan looks very confident in what he's doing. In fact, he cannot wait to try the sweet confections.


	7. Exhaustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

Washing his hands, Howakhan asks, “Do you have something I could use to pull my hair back?”

“Yes, I'll be right back.” Getting out of his seat, Koujaku greets his allmate as he passes the bird in the living area.

The American follows after the other into the room, not wanting to be alone. He sees the sparrow on the table, and cheerfully says, “Hello, Beni!”

Feathers ruffled, Beni ignores the kind greeting. “You keep staying here later and later, kid.”

“It's because I miss you,” Howakhan says with a puzzled undertone. 

He really did miss the bird. The red sparrow reminded him of his dad's allmate. He remembers when Tori used to fly over him as a child and brought him sweets when he came home crying. The American was always bigger than the average kid. And when the other children realized that he was just an awkward mini giant that refused to fight back, they would pick on him for being sensitive, nice, and caring. They would say, “Boys aren't supposed to be fragile.” Howakhan would keep his mouth shut around his parents and spill everything to the pink cockatoo. Tori always knew how to cheer him up afterward.

“Don't patronize me.” Beni flies onto his perch and hibernates to end their conversation just as Koujaku returns with a headband.

“I don't have anything that would help, but I think this will do.” He hands the stretchy material to his guess who then clumsily tries to use it like a scrunchy. Koujaku's fingers twitch to the point when his mouth reacts before his brain can, “That's not how you use it. Let me help.”

Howakhan sits on the floor in front of the sofa, “Go ahead, but can you be really gentle?”

Koujaku nods. The Japanese awkwardly maneuver across the space to sit on the couch; notably, his guest relaxes in between his legs. 

Relief floods through Howakhan's body, “Thank you. I never had anyone besides my parents touch my hair.”

“Eventually, I am going to touch your hair.”

“That is true. Okay, I'm ready.” Even though he says he's ready, the boy tenses, waiting for the inevitable.

Koujaku cannot believe he's actually touching the hair he's been craving since their first meeting. Not wanting to startle the kid, he brushes the hair out the other's face first and then he starts to add a little more pressure; incidentally, he hears Howakhan inhale a shaky breath “Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

Breathing heavy, the American shakes his head, “Ngh-no. Can you... let up?” The hair dresser releases his hold, but Howakhan tilts his head upward, eyes closed, and breathlessly sighs, “Don't stop.”

Koujaku hesitantly rakes his hands through strands, delicately rubbing the hair between his fingers. Exhaustion finally catches up with the brunet and he shortly falls asleep between the older man's knees. The stylist continues to enjoy the ministrations. Making sure Howakhan is truly sleeping, he lifts up some of the locks and presses it against his lips. Not only does the American's hair feel like silk, it's smooth, soft, and unbearably desirable, but also the smell of rosemary invades his nose. In other words, Koujaku has the intense desire to stay likes this for as long as humanly possible. Something about Howakhan's smell seems so familiar and foreign at the same time. Feeling this light drunkenness of familiarity, the Japanese remains rooted in his spot throughout the night.

The next morning, Koujaku wakes up sleeping sideways on the couch. A blanket is covering his body, and he contemplates where it came from. As soon as the thought came, another one comes crashing down on him. What is wrong with him? Grabbing onto the blanket, the distressed man pulls it over his head.

Mizuki knocks on the door twice before barging in, “Hey, Koujaku, I brought some...” His voice trails off when he sees his best friend on the couch, trying to hide his whole body with a very thin blanket, and then the ex leader of Dry Juice turns to see the American coming out of the kitchen, hair wet, and a towel around his waist. Mentally, the tattoo artist praises his best friend on finding someone this physically fit. The boy's body appears as if he was carved from marble. Every curve, dip, and structure shows years of hard physical labor.

Koujaku eyes widen in horror while he watches his friend gawk at Howakhan between the covers. Mizuki isn't even trying to hide his appraisal. “It's not what it looks like,” the raven head chokes out.

Howakhan smiles at both of them and eagerly interjects, “I hope everyone's hungry because I made extra servings!”

Koujaku groans.


	8. Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

The half naked young adult blissfully remembers the touches and looks directly into the stylist’s eyes. “Last night was the best sleep I had in weeks. Your hands are like magic, Koujaku.” In a lower tone, he whispers, “Can we do it again?

Both Mizuki and Koujaku gape at Howakhan. The boy sounds so relaxed and refreshed and a little bit on the oblivious flirtatious side. Not to mention, he’s standing by the kitchen entrance with a towel hanging extremely low around his narrow waist. If Mizuki does not stop staring at the exposed flesh, the ex-Yakuza will intervene.

“Thank you for visiting,” the raven head takes the package from Mizuki’s hand, “and thank you again for Beni’s parts. I’ll see you later.” Before Mizuki can say anything, the stylist pushes his friend out the door and locks it. No matter what he will say in his defense, his treacherous friend will tease him mercilessly in front of the American; moreover, Koujaku needs talk to his guest in private. “Howakhan, may I ask where your clothes are?”

“They’re hanging in the bathroom. I hope you don’t mind.” The American keeps pushing his hair out of his face and sighs, “I’m sorry for falling asleep last night. My roomie keeps bringing girls into our dorm, and I left in a hurry when they started to--” Howakhan lets out a frustrating grunt. “I should've grabbed my hair ties when I had the chance.”

“Why don’t you stay here?” Koujaku suggests. They’re already spending a lot of time together, so maybe having another person living in his house will not hurt. It’s not like he gets visits often other than Howakhan. Mizuki's visits are very few and far in between. Sometimes it gets a little lonely waking up with no one there to greet him. Some would call him selfish for asking the kid to stay with him, but the void in his heart from Aoba’s departure fills up every time he sees Howakhan.

“Really? You don't mind?” Overly ecstatic, the foreigner embraces Koujaku for the generous offer. “Thank you! Thank you! Do you want to go to my dorm with me? I don't have any classes today, so we can grab my stuff. I mean. You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

Koujaku laughs between Howakhan's neck and right shoulder. “I'll come along.”

“Oi! The kid is living here now?”

Not letting go of the Japanese, the brunet cranes his head up to look at the sparrow flying around them. “Beni, isn’t it great? I can see you every day now!” 

Howakhan and Beni continue to chat while Koujaku immerses himself in the heat surrounding him. Significantly, the smell of rosemary is stronger now.


	9. Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

After finishing their meal, they end up back in the same position as the night before. Koujaku, who is sitting on the couch, faces the back of Howakhan’s body. The American leans backwards to lay his head against the edge of the couch between the Japanese man's thighs. His body reclines lazily in front of him while his feet are flat against the plush carpet and his legs braced to keep his position. When both are comfortable in their sitting arrangement, the older of the two begins to comb back the thick hair in front of him with his long, slender fingers.

Koujaku tries to occupy his mind by focusing on braiding the brunet’s hair because the sounds coming from Howakhan’s mouth are undeniably sinful; however, the stylist accidentally adds a little more pressure. And as a result, his companion’s breathing increases. Even though the hairdresser refrains from looking at anything other than the hair he‘s working with, his curiosity takes a hold of his better judgment. 

As he begins to study the large body sitting between his knees, the first thing he notices is the other’s closed eyes, which are pinched with either pain or pleasure. In this situation, Koujaku assumes it’s the latter. He wonders how those eyes will look if Howakhan opens them. Will the American stare off into the distance or gaze into Koujaku’s own? When it seems like the American is not going to open his eyes anytime soon, he notices the slightly parted lips. They are full, plump, and soft. In a way, those lips looks like they’re begging for someone to bite them. Mesmerized, the stylist pinches the hair to see if the lips will open wider. Soon after, Howakhan’s pink tongue sticks out to wet the bottom lip just to bite it. The skin swells ever so slightly, but it is enough to sate the Japanese man.

“Alright, I’m done. Are you ready to go?”

Koujaku thought Aoba was the only one that brought this side out of him. The idea of laying with another man churns his stomach. But when it comes to Howakhan, he wants to continue touching, hear the sounds coming out of those delectable lips, and he wants the kid to touch him back.

“Give me a minute.” Barely holding himself and the small towel around his waist up, the kid gets up on weak knees, “Lemme go get my clothes, and then we can leave.”

When the future resident of the house is out of sight, Koujaku covers his face with the palms of his hands. He realizes that he wants Howakhan, but he doesn’t want to treat the American as a possession. He wants the kid to be with or do whomever he wants. Why does having affections for someone have to be so stressful?


	10. Illogical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta:[Somekittylovesme](http://archiveofourown.org/users/somekittylovesme/pseuds/somekittylovesme)

“ **I know this is highly illogical, but we should make out anyways.** ” Howakhan says in English, and then translates into Japanese and laughs, “This is so cheesy.”

Howakhan saw a flier earlier outside of Mizuki’s shop. It was a movie that he had been dying to watch ever since he left America and now it’s going to show on foreign movie night. The American talked on and on about the trailers and behind the scene clips he saw and it intrigued both Mizuki and Koujaku.

With Koujaku sitting in the middle, Mizuki on his left and Howakhan on the right, it is hard for the tattoo artist to see the American in a face to face conversation. “It’s not that bad. From the beginning, both the librarian and her boss clearly show some chemistry,” Mizuki said with his face looking straight ahead, but his peripheral vision shows the American's body favoring the side closest to Koujaku. His best friend's right elbow is on the arm rest and forearm erect while subconsciously twirling the kid’s hair with his finger tips.

“That’s not the point. The lines. The lines.” Howakhan clears his throat, leans over Koujaku’s lap, both of his hands are firmly on the left side of the raven head’s arm rest to stable his balance. Making sure they have locked eye contact, the American says, “I’m hot. You’re hot. We should totally kiss.”

Mizuki tries to keep a straight face, but to no avail. “Hahaha! Kid, you crack me up, but I have to decline.” The idea of his best friend getting jealous if he continues this line of dialogue with the American, is a path he would rather not venture. 

“You wound me.” Howakhan removes himself from on top of the red kimono wearing man and finds his bag of yellow crunchy delight on the floor. “Ah man, I’m gonna go get some more popcorn.”

Mizuki watches the American walk out the door before he pops the question he‘s been itching to voice, “Did you ever find out why the kid was naked in your kitchen?”

Koujaku chokes on his soft drink and heatedly whispers in fear that the target of his affections might over hear them even though Howakhan is nowhere to be seen, “That was two weeks ago! Why did you pick now to ask?”

“I wanted you two love birds to settle in first. So, did you?” he said, nudging the left side of the other Japanese man’s ribs.

Koujaku lets the prying friend continue jabbing his sides before giving Mizuki the honest answer, “Howakhan woke up early to jog, and then he took a shower when he came back.”

This is the biggest let down Mizuki has heard between these two. He swore from the way they interacted and with all the hair foreplay out in public that there was something happening. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Maybe Koujaku needs his help after all. There is no way their relationship will go far without outside assistance. It’s clear as day that they both like each other. Hell. Even the girls sitting in the back of the theater keep giggling every time the kid stretches his arm to rest it behind his grumpy friend. Those two have already got the gazing at each other like love sick teens down. The only thing that’s missing is the hand holding and cutesy nicknames. Mizuki will have to have a one on one chat with the American soon.


End file.
